Lane and Finch were gone.

Not dead, unlike some of their late friends. Spot, Jack, Elmer, Domino... thankfully, they weren't gone in that sense. But still, they were gone.

Dipper and Albert had stood side by side, shoulder to shoulder, watching as the two set off for Brooklyn. It pained Dipper to watch them go, just as she assumed it pained Albert. And yet she knew Lane and Finch were simply going off to where their responsibilities lay.

It didn't make it hurt any less.

Race had made Albert his new second in command. Dipper wondered if Race had taken her words from before into account, or if simply Race felt more at ease appointing Albert, now that the newsies weren't in any immediate danger. Now, they were just in danger of going to bed without a fulfilling meal, although Pulitzer did cut them some slack after the whole Unknowns fiasco, and they still had some of Amy's emergency money left.

It had been a hard few weeks. There wasn't a day that went by without someone breaking down in tears, especially the younger newsies. No one had been left unscathed by the events of late. No one went a day without missing Jack or the others. Many were the sleepless nights, the crying, the broken. Many were the tormented screams brought on by horrid nightmares.

Dipper felt numb to it all.

She hadn't felt like herself since she'd received news of the death in her family. She sometimes wondered why this cruel hand of cards had been dealt to her, only to realize soon after that this way of thinking would not bring her family back, nor would it make her feel any better. Albert had said this himself.

Speaking of, Albert hadn't seemed to notice how empty she felt. She hoped he hadn't. This was already far too much for him to handle without him having to worry about her. She'd been looking after herself for years. She'd be fine.

She walked slowly into hers and Amy's room, a bowl of steaming hot broth in her hands. "Here, Ames," she said softly. "I brought you soup. From Jacobi's."

This was one of Amy's own worst days. Days where she felt wretched, where she missed her sister and mother, where she hated her brother and father. Dipper thought she might've understood.

Amy rolled over, eyes bloodshot, tear tracks running down her face. Slowly, she sat up. "Thank you."

Dipper handed it wordlessly to the girl.

"Thanks," Amy whispered again. Dipper nodded, and turned to leave, when Amy's voice stopped her. "Dipper, can you stay?"

"Yeah," Dipper said, coming back to her and sitting down on the bed. "Of course."

Amy sipped tearfully at the broth. "I'm sorry William treated you so awfully."

Dipper was silent for a moment, thrown off by the sudden apology. "Amy, that wasn't yer fault."

"Maybe it was," she argued. "Maybe he treated you like that because he was so mad at me all the time."

Dipper pursed her lips together. "You know, I used to think that William only treated me tha way he did 'cause he couldn't handle me otherwise. Don't you see how little sense dat makes?"

Amy sniffled. "I guess."

Dipper squeezed her knee. "I enjoyed tha days when you was around, back when I used ta visit William. Talking wit you was some of my best memories."

The girl leaned her head against Dipper's shoulder. "I didn't know back then how much William was hurting you. I wish I did."

"William had a lot going on back then." She was quiet for a moment. "I hope he'll find joy someday. But I ain't ready to forget what he did, and it's okay if you ain't, either. I know he hurt you, too."

Amy bowed her head. "I wish I was better at dealing with my family drama. You seem so unaffected. It's foolish, but I even get a little jealous sometimes."

"I..." Dipper couldn't think of what to say. Did Amy really see her that way? It was certainly not the truth. "Amy. I ain't unaffected. Why do you think I've started stayin' here? I can't face my home anymore, or my dad. My own faddah. And I feel so much shame for it. And Ise terrified to open up about it... to Albert..." Her heart clenched. "Trust me, Ames, Ise anythin' but unaffected."

Amy was looking at her, eyes wide. "Oh."

Dipper looked away, feeling awkward.

"Even Albert doesn't know you feel this way?" Amy seemed to be on the verge of tears once more. "Why haven't you said anything?"

"I don't know," she whispered around the tightness in her throat. "Like I said, I'm scared. But... I don't know why."

After a moment, Amy set aside the soup, and pulled Dipper into a tight hug. Dipper let herself be held, saying nothing, feeling nothing, but knowing beneath it all that she was still cared for. And that maybe it was time to start opening up about her struggles.

And not just to Albert.

"I love you, Dipper," Amy said, stroking her hair. "And so do many others. Never forget that."

"I won't," Dipper replied softly.

"Here you are, Mademoiselle."

Dipper looked up, blinking at the bouquet of flowers that was being held in front of her face. Beyond the flowers, stood Mush, grinning. "What's this fa?"

Mush shrugged. "I stopped by tha flower shop while sellin', 'n decided tha pick some up fa you 'n Amy. She got tha oth-ah half."

Slowly, Dipper took the bouquet. "Thank you."

Mush took a bow with a flourish of his cap, then left her to dwell on this sweet action of his. She walked over to the small table in the lodge and sat, placing the bouquet down, hugging her knees to her chest. The flowers were beautiful, to be sure. She wished she could appreciate them more. She wished the joy would come. Yet the longer she waited, the hollower she felt.

She was so tired of feeling this way.

"You don't got a secret admirer, do ya?"

She recognized Albert's voice immediately. Lifting her head, she opened her mouth to quip something back — and promptly burst into tears.

"Hey, hey!" Albert was instantly in front of her, crouched down, gripping her hands in his. "I was jus jokin'- what... what's wrong?"

This, of course, only made Dipper cry harder, and this was when Albert stood, bringing her to her feet and cradling her head tightly to his chest, doing his best to soothe her sobs.

"I can't... I don't-" she sniffled. "I-I don't-"

"Shh." Albert continued to rock her. "Take yer time."

She didn't know what had provoked the tears, why Albert's voice was all it took to draw them out. She supposed it was because of all the feelings she'd kept to herself these past few weeks. She hadn't expected it to ever become so heavy, but it was. It was all so incredibly heavy.

Finally, she began to calm down. When she raised her head once more, she caught sight of a few of the newsies in the room staring worriedly at her, which made her shrivel back into Albert's strong hold. She noticed Albert giving them all a slightly scathing look, as though it were their fault she'd broken down this way. She also noticed that he'd turned them both around so that Albert's body was shielding them from everyone's eyes.

"I miss 'em," she eventually managed to stammer out. "I miss my family. I miss 'em so much I can't even go home anymore. And I miss Spot, 'n Lane 'n Finch even though dey ain't even dead, 'n I miss everyone else who did die. But at tha same time, I feel like Ise numb to it all. Like a wave keeps crashin' ov-ah me, but Ise just floatin' on top wit nothin' ta hope fa. Nothin' makes me happy anymore. And I've been too scared ta tell you, 'cause... I dunno. I dunno why I feel like dis."

"Oh, Lil' Dipper..." She felt Albert's soft breath on her skin as he continued to hold her close. "You shoulda told me."

"I know," she sobbed. "I know."

He began to rub her back. "It ain't wrong what you feel, y'know? You've been through a lot, 'n dis is jus yer heart tryna recover. It's gonna take time."

She was silent. "You mean it?"

"Of course I do," he said. "I know people who've felt tha way you do 'n have overcome it."

"Like who?"

"Dat ain't fa me ta say."

She said nothing, accepting this. After a moment, she pulled away from Albert's embrace. Once she'd recollected her thoughts, she said, "I wanna go see my dad. But not today. Maybe tomorrow."

"Okay," said Albert. "You want me ta come along?"

She nodded.

He smiled slightly, squeezing her hand softly before pulling away. "Hey, you don't mind if I take those flowers for a bit, do ya? I'll give 'em back."

Dipper studied him, then the flowers, and then him again. "I guess so."

He grinned, then gathered the flowers in his hands before walking away, heading towards Amy's room. Dipper, confused, met Kid Blink's gaze. He only shrugged.

"Do you want me ta knock?"

Dipper blinked. She hadn't noticed that they'd arrived. "Oh. No, but thanks. I can knock."

Even so, it took her a moment to raise her fist to the door, tapping the wood ever so slightly. When Albert turned to her with a raised eyebrow, she sighed and knocked harder.

"Come in."

The sound of her father's voice made her feel hollow inside, hollower than she already did. She wondered if it was because the voice itself sounded so utterly devoid of life as it carried out to them. It scared her, and she suddenly wasn't sure if she wanted to open the door.

Albert understood. He always, always understood. Without her even having to ask, he reached for the doorknob, pushing the door open.

And there stood her father.

He looked terrible. There were dark bruises beneath his eyes, and it was clear he hadn't washed or shaved in the last while. The house around him, when she looked, had seemed to have been stripped of the life and colour that had once filled it. Her father, too, seemed to have lost the healthy pallor of his skin. It was too pale, too malnourished, too... empty.

Dipper wanted to run. She wanted to run away and never look back at this shell of a man, the one who'd raised her. It was too painful, far too painful for the girl she was. But alas, her feet stayed rooted in place, grounded perhaps by Albert's lingering presence by her side.

Her father, finally, took a step forward. "Abby."

"Dad," she said just as quietly.

Few were the ones left, and even fewer the words. Though they were all each other had left of the family, Dipper didn't know what to say. She didn't know how to fix this. She was scared, because she knew her father didn't, either.

"Why did you come back?" her father whispered. "I can't... I can't give you what you need right now. I'm sorry, but I can't."

Dipper's eyes welled with tears once more. "Yer my dad. Dere's nothin' I need more right now."

"Abby," he whispered again, his voice hoarse.

She didn't let him say anything else. She walked into his arms, hugging him tightly, feeling like the young, innocent girl she once was. Not wholly, but a touch. Maybe that was all that was left.

"I'm so sorry, honey," he said, voice trembling, hugging her back. "I couldn't save them. I couldn't..."

"No one could," she interjected, sniffling. "Yer not tha one ta blame. Kyle is."

He took in a shaky breathe. "I tried so hard to stop him. So hard. And look where it got us."

Dipper didn't know what to say. She only hugged him harder. He, too, gripped her tighter, cradling the back of her head like he had when she was younger.

He held her with the certainty of a man who knew he was about to lose what mattered to him most.

"Abby," he said, a sob caught in his throat. "I love ya, more than anythin', but I can't protect ya. I want you ta be safe-"

"Stop it," Dipper ordered, pulling away and looking up at him. He complied. "Stop tryna convince me ta leave. I can make my own decisions. Kyle's gone, dad. I'll be okay. We'll be okay."

He stared at her, before pulling her back into his arms. She heard him let out a deep sigh. "I wish I coulda protected you from everythin' dat's happened. Abby, I'm so sorry."

"Don't," she whispered. "You sayin' sorry is jus hurtin' us both more." She looked at him, the tears now flowing freely. "I already miss 'em enough."

Her father shut his eyes. Trek Williams, the man who'd been recognized a fearless leader among so many, shut his eyes against the pain. "So do I, baby. So do I."

It was only when they parted again did her father seem to register Albert's presence. Before he could say anything, Dipper stepped back and into Albert's side. "Dad, dis is Albert DaSilva. He..."

"I know who he is," Trek said softly, approaching them. "It's good ta know you made it through, son."

"Still feels weird when ya call me dat," said Albert wryly.

Dipper looked, confused, between them both. "I didn't know you guys had met."

"Only once or twice," said Albert. "Mostly when Lane was off bein' reckless."

Trek smiled slightly, before his attention returned to the obvious elephant in the room. "So, you 'n him..."

"Togeth-ah," said Dipper. "I woulda said somethin' before, but... wit everythin' dat was goin' on..."

"It's a pleasant surprise," said her father, before pulling Albert into a hug as well. "I couldn't 'a asked fa a bett-ah boy fa my Abigail."

Albert seemed to take this to heart, for his posture straightened and his mouth set into a firm line. "I couldn't 'a asked fa a bett-ah partner. She's got a lot 'a yer best qualities, sir."

"It's Trek," was all her father said back, smiling tightly.

"Thank you," Dipper said, glad that he'd approved of the match.

"I trust your judgement, Abby," he said.

Dipper was suddenly reminded of William. She'd never told her father about the boy. She wondered if maybe she should. "I don't think my judgement is as trustworthy as yer makin' it sound."

Her father only smiled and shrugged, gesturing towards Albert. "You ended up with him, and you seem happy, so it can't be dat untrustworthy."

She contemplated this. She'd never truly felt happy with William. She'd never felt as though she'd chosen the boy for herself. And yet with Albert... she had freedom. She felt safe. Glancing over at him, she noticed that he and her father were talking quietly amongst themselves once more, and she felt contentment. It was perhaps the first good thing she'd felt in a long while.

Albert glanced back at her, and seemed to notice something distant in her expression, for he turned back to her father and began bidding him farewell. "We should be gettin' back ta sellin', but... it was really nice seein' you again, Trek. Ise glad you made it through, too."

Trek nodded, smiling fondly.

"Bye, dad," Dipper said softly, giving him another hug.

He squeezed her tight. "Be safe, honey."

Once they parted, she and Albert walked towards the exit. Yet before they could leave, her father called out, "Abby!"

Dipper spun around. She hadn't done something wrong, had she? There was nothing in his face that suggested she had.

He took a few strides towards them, coming closer. "This mean you'll come home?"

She smiled and nodded. "I'll be back tomorrow."

He smiled. "I'll see you then."

Dipper and Albert left, beginning to walk towards their selling spot together. She shivered in the winter air, and Albert, seeing this, threw an arm around her and pulled her into his side. Instantly, she felt warmer.

"He said somethin' to you," Dipper remarked as they walked. "Yous was bein' quiet, but I heard somethin'."

Albert seemed to hesitate. "He jus asked me ta take good care 'a you." He glanced down at her. "Dat you was his pride 'n joy. His love. His everythin'." He turned forward once more. "Den, aft-ah dat, he jus asked how I was doin'."

"And how are ya doin'?"

He seemed caught off guard by the question. After a moment, he shrugged. "Fine, I guess. Race has been keepin' me busy."

"You miss 'em, too," said Dipper quietly.

Slowly, Albert nodded. "I miss everyone."

Dipper knew how he felt. She sighed and squeezed his hand in hers. He squeezed back, then pulled away.

"I forgot somethin' earli-ah," said Albert, reaching into his newsie sack and pulling something out. "He-ah."

Dipper tentatively reached out for the flower crown Albert was holding out to her. Instantly, she recognized the origins. "Dese are tha flowers Mush gave me," she said, as though that weren't obvious. "You made dis?"

Albert nodded, and she thought she caught the hints of a proud smile on his face. "Amy helped."

That did make more sense. Dipper looked back down at the flowers, feeling truly loved. Feeling. "It's perfect."

Gently, Albert took it from her and placed it onto her head. His face split into the largest of grins moments later, taking her in. "Dipper, you look like a princess."

She blushed, retreating back into his side. "I love you, Al."

"And I love you, too."

(2960 words)

If you thought that this one shot, much less this whole book, was going to be anything other than these characters slowly healing from their numerous traumas, you were sorely mistaken.

I'm just kidding. I have fluff planned for next year.

Also know that while the order in which I release certain things may be random, I'm trying to post chronologically, and so sometimes some characters are gonna get more time on page than the others. But I do have one shots planned for every pairing, even some outside of the five couples that have books solely for them.

But we will see...

~ nutcracker645